


Told You So

by PhaedrusOfAthens



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Historical RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Hangover, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Mostly Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 17:04:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11833140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhaedrusOfAthens/pseuds/PhaedrusOfAthens
Summary: Alexander has an exciting night... and regrets it the next day.





	Told You So

I gingerly opened my eyes and saw the early morning sun streaming through the windows of our room. My head was pounding and my stomach felt...off.

 

“How are you feeling?” Laurens said with an unusual firmness to his voice. I slowly sat up and glared at him; my head swam. He was sitting at our desk finishing a letter before he even looked up at me. “I hope it's better than you look.”

 

“I feel about as well as I deserve,” I groaned. Memories came washing up of perhaps overt indiscretions displayed last night. No wonder Laurens seemed mad.

 

“Drink some water,” he said sternly pointing to a cup on the table by my cot. 

 

And  _ that's  _ why he was mad. Now I remember him trying to push water into my hands before I stumbled into bed last night. I'm sure I fought tooth and nail just to not drink it merely because he told me to. Thankfully, he didn't say what I knew he was thinking.

 

“You better get ready,” he said matter-of-factly. “The General asked to see us soon.”

 

Of course he needs to see us early, today of all days. I gulped down the rest of the water and stood to get dressed for the day. It was going to be a long one. 

 

After a hastier (and clumsier) than usual morning session of dressing and grooming, Laurens cheekily offered me breakfast, but my queasy stomach told me that would not be for the best. Coffee, however, was a welcome substitute for food before setting out to headquarters.

 

“Your Excellency,” I said with a firm and steady voice that I hoped masked any uneasiness I was feeling. “Colonel Laurens said we were requested.”

 

Washington eyed me curiously and I hoped he didn't notice the unusual state I was in. Or perhaps that was my own paranoia. 

 

“I need you to lead the men in their morning exercises,” Washington said, my heart sinking. “Meade has come down with quite an illness and I sent him to the doctor.” Meade certainly had come down with an illness… the same one I was now suffering through.

 

I started, “Sir, Laurens could-” but was interrupted.

 

“I will gladly lead the men this morning, Sir” Laurens said. “With Colonel Hamilton’s help, of course,” he smirked at me.

 

“Excellent. Then you are dismissed,” he said abruptly, leaving no room for argument. I would just have to suffer.

 

As we walked to the enlisted area, Laurens glanced over at me, smiling, “Nothing like an early morning jog to get the blood pumping.”

 

“For the love of God, Laurens, not so loud,” I pleaded.

 

The drills and exercises were excruciating and somehow worse than I imagined. Everything ached and even my mouth felt exponentially drier than usual. After what felt like an eternity of torture, we were finally finished.

 

“Feeling any better?” Laurens asked, this time with genuine concern in his voice.

 

“I should not have had that much last night,” I said without thinking.

 

Laurens smugly leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Told you so.” There it was. I groaned as he hurried his pace back to the General’s headquarters. I was not about to match his enthusiasm today.

 

Entering headquarters, I noticed a stack of letters that needed redrafting and thanked God for the opportunity to sit and write without any physical expectations. There was a cup of water at the seat next to Laurens and I knew he had put it there with the expectation that I would sit next to him. He worried too much. I promptly seated myself on the other side, but still next to Laurens and took the top letter to begin copying. He casually moved the cup to where I was seated without looking up. Washington didn't seem to notice. I rolled my eyes, but secretly I was glad to have it. I began writing after a ridiculous attempt to discreetly take a swig of water which I'm sure did not go unnoticed. The words may have flowed a little less fluidly today, but nevertheless, the stack slowly grew smaller and smaller.

 

About halfway through the stack, Laurens glanced over at me with concern in his eyes and I knew he was worrying over nothing. The water had actually helped and I was feeling much more myself; I certainly felt less like crawling into bed and sleeping the day away. In an attempt to throw him off his guard, I reached under the table to pinch him at the flap of his breeches. He startled almost dropping his quill and making a commotion that the General surely would have seen if he had not been engrossed in his own letter.

 

The glare I got back was worth the risk.

 

“You shouldn't do things like that,” Laurens reprimanded on our way back to our quarters after supper. In what I can only assume was an attempt to prevent any further argument on the matter, he finished with, “but I'm glad you're feeling better.”

 

“No one saw, I made sure of it,” I said brushing off his concern.

 

“You're going to pay for that,” he said steadily. He said it not as a threat, but as if he were stating a fact. 

 

I shivered at the thought and teasingly said, “I very much doubt that whatever you do to make me pay will hinder any future endeavors of the sort.” At that, he shrugged and continued walking.

 

Any expectations that I had, however, quickly vanished when Laurens immediately took a seat at our desk without another word to me. I stole a glance at what he was so diligently writing and noticed it was a letter to his sister.

 

“Can't you do that later?” I whined. I hated the way I sounded.

 

“Alexander, hush. I must finish this. I've neglected this for far too long,” he admonished.

 

“You've neglected something else for far too long too,” I said playfully. That didn't even merit a glance from him. 

 

Frustrated at being ignored after such high expectations, I picked up my copy of  _ Plutarch’s Lives _ and loudly flipped through the pages while noticeably clearing my throat. 

 

After agonizing minutes (but what felt like hours), he lowered his pen to seal his letter… still without a single word to me. The waiting was almost too much.

 

“Laurens,” I whined again. “Please… I need you. I'm sorry I said you couldn't make me pay. I'm sorry for my perhaps too eager indiscretion this afternoon.” God, when did I start apologizing like this?

 

He finally looked at me. He stood from his chair and walked decisively to the bed. He leaned down for a quick kiss and then said in a low voice, “Told you so.”


End file.
